


Public Enemy #3

by LibraLibrary



Category: Ducktales (2017)
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene, but shes gonna make it worth it, in this house we respect a self sufficient gaylien wife, penny has a Bad Time, takes place between whatever happened to Donald Duck and moonvasion, this one goes out to Sam “penumbra wife city” King
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 02:56:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21129611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibraLibrary/pseuds/LibraLibrary
Summary: Donald is dead. Penumbra is a traitor. Della is blissfully unaware.Sometimes it sucks to do the right thing.Or, how Penumbra was able to send a transmission and save the day.





	Public Enemy #3

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the first half of this in a manic burst of inspiration and then Sam King tweeted about eventually telling her version of what happened during this span of time so I immediately shifted into maximum overdrive to get this done before its blown all to shit lmao.
> 
> Anyways. Stan Dellumbra.

Contrary to common belief amongst the population of Earth, the Moon IS a planet, and it objectively IS better than the Earth. 

Of course, former Lieutenant (rank meant nothing to a  _ traitor,  _ a  _ fugitive- _ ) Penumbra mused bitterly, the way the lack of atmosphere caused every single bootprint she left in the soft dusty ground to remain intact and give her pursuers a concrete trail to follow was  _ really  _ annoying. 

So perhaps not the perfect planet. 

It didn’t help matters that her desperate sprint for escape out in the vast wilderness of the dunes was sporadically interrupted by her muscles locking up, the aftereffects of that damned shock insignia dropping her into the dust every time, sending up powdery plumes that were no doubt bringing the search parties ever closer. Penumbra grit her teeth, shakily half-crawling to a nearby rock to pull herself back up to her feet. The moment she’d pried the device off her chest back at the launch site, she’d had to physically repress the urge to cram it down Lunaris’s throat, pay back every painful shock tenfold, silence his cruel lies for good, avenge-

No. No, she couldn’t think about that now. If, she made- _ when  _ she made it to safety, she could stop to think about him. 

About the flimsy golden capsule, glinting in the light of a distant star as it flickered out of sight. 

About the man inside it, full of determination and devotion but just as mortal as anyone else. 

And about Della, and her kids, and their family, all waiting on Earth for another lost duck, but one that would never make it home. 

_ “I miss them, Penny,” she’d murmured one night, still clutching her tools as she slid against the wall, dragged down by sleep that refused to be put off any longer, “but I know they’re safe with him. I know Donald-“ _

Penumbra shut her eyes, shook her head, and forced herself to keep moving. 

“Lieutenant Penumbra, STOP!”

The dust in her path exploded in pale burst as a shot whizzed past, close enough to make her flinch and instinctively turn, but far enough to know the intention behind it. A warning shot. Penumbra knew then that, whether or not they were ordered to, the party sent to hunt her down wouldn’t hurt her. She could see it on their faces too, even with their eyes hidden under visors. 

These weren’t warriors. These were civilians, swept up in a wave of a madman’s delusions. And they certainly weren’t killers. 

The disgraced hero looked between them all, desperation and despair swirling around an island of hope in the pit of her stomach as they all hesitantly looked away. They hated this, they could never in a million years justify the situation, no matter how taken they were with their General’s lies. Zenith’s hands were shaking, her grip on the gun in her hand weakening. Hell, Gibbous looked like he was ready to start crying. 

Penumbra swayed dangerously on her feet, aching and broken-hearted and just so  _ tired,  _ and with all her focus on keeping upright her words tumbled out of her mouth as a whisper that might as well have been as loud as the crack of a pistol in the tension of the moment. 

“You’re making a mistake-“

She took a shaky step back, brushing against a small rock embedded in the dust, and the rock  _ screamed.  _

Her people all jumped back instinctively, and as she fell forward in surprise she tried to catch a glimpse at the source over her shoulder. She hit the ground again, rolled over as quickly as possible, and could just  _ feel  _ the universe laughing at her as she saw the baby moon mite, eyes wide and blazing crimson, staring back and still wailing. 

“Oh you  _ can’t _ be serious!“

The ground behind the baby exploded as its mother emerged, and Penumbra struggled to crawl backwards as the new recruits shouted and aimed their weapons in a panic. Several shots collided with the gigantic mite’s sturdy carapace, but if she noticed she didn’t act on it, her bright red eyes firmly fixed on the wounded woman lying in the dirt. Penumbra looked up at the creature’s face, four perfect reflections of herself gleaming in the shining gaze, and took a moment to marvel at how quickly her life had gone to hell. 

“Run,” she whispered, then, rolling into her front and glaring at the others, “ _ RUN.” _

A tendril caught her by the ankle, and as the other moonlanders watched in horror, their former lieutenant was dragged into the ground, vanishing in a cascade of rocks and dust. 

They stood in shock, trembling as the awful gravity of the situation sank in, before a devastating roar under their feet returned them to their senses, and they obeyed Penumbra’s final order. 

They ran. 

~*~

Penumbra coughed up a lungful of silt, curling in on herself and straining to blink the dust out of her watering eyes. Her wheezing tapered off, and she risked a glance upwards, before instinctively throwing herself back against the tunnel wall behind her. The mother mite stared down at her from a few yards away, four spots of cinnabar fixed unblinking on her position. Between the two of them, the baby gurgled and whimpered, clearly still unhappy about being frightened up on the surface and staring at Penumbra with its large dewy eyes.

When the mother didn’t immediately fall upon her to rip her limb from limb, as she was expecting, Penumbra slowly, carefully removed her helmet, pausing with every slight  _ huff _ from the mother before continuing. Once the armor was removed, she cautiously leaned forward, setting it down in front of the distressed infant while maintaining eye contact with the larger mite. 

“It’s alright,” she murmured in the most soothing voice she could manage, “its gold. You like gold, don’t you?”

The baby cast a glance down at the helmet, still whining softly, before looking back up at the moonlander. Penumbra groaned, sitting up on her knees. “Then what? What else could you possibly-“

She paused, the memory of a similar moment in these tunnels months prior surging back, and she sighed. “Oh you’re  _ kidding _ me.”

The baby made a soft hiccuping sound, still tearing up, and the mother cast her gaze down at the child with an expression of clear concern. Penumbra sighed, and after another moment’s pause, started humming wordlessly. Both mites looked at her expectantly, and, realizing she didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, Penny began to softly repeat the words she had heard so many times the past few months, echoing faintly through her room in the middle of the night, a delayed promise for three little boys she was starting to think she might never meet for herself. 

_ “Life is strange and vast….filled with wonders...and joy…” _

Penumbra’s quiet singing echoed in the small space, and the baby’s whimpering immediately ceased, eyes going wide. The little thing made an excited noise, glancing back at it’s mother with a joyful bobbing motion, before turning back to the lieutenant and trilling with delight. In spite of herself, Penumbra could feel a smile spreading across her face at the mite’s joyful display, and she continued. 

“ _ Face each new sun, with eyes...clear and…” _

The more she sang, the more she could almost  _ hear _ Della’s voice in her head, as if she was still right there next to her, still talking her ears off about her boys, and her Uncle Scrooge, and her brothe-

Her voice faltered, and she paused to take a deep breath as the smile dropped off her face. 

_ “With eyes...clear and...true…” _

The baby made a curious sound, but she hadn’t noticed, vision growing blurry as she dug her fingers painfully into the hem of her tunic. Old voices echoed in her head as she tried to continue the song, the ghosts of one-sided conversations late at night, stories about the unstoppable Della and Donald Duck, who were now respectively home and unaware of the target on her back, and likely reduced to little more than space debris in a cold void while his family waited for a return that would never come. 

Had he said goodbye to them, before the ship so rudely ripped him from the Earth? Had he even gotten the chance, after all those years, to see Della again, to receive one of her painfully tight hugs, to hear how much she missed him?

“ _ Unafraid...of the unknown…” _ Penumbra choked out, too focused on the misery in her head to feel the tears slipping down her face,  _ “because I’ll face it...all…with...you…” _

The words were cut off with a deep gasp as Penumbra buried her face in her hand, trembling and falling back against the wall. She was suddenly well aware of her tears, and that she was crying in front of a former enemy, but at this point she couldn’t bring herself to care. She was a fugitive, a perceived enemy of her own people, someone who had trusted her with his freedom and the safety of his planet was dead, and she’d done nothing to stop it. All of her anger, all of her suspicions about Della, and for what? Ending a long and painful skirmish that had plagued her people for too long? Petty jealousy? Her own insecurities?

Donald was dead, Della and her family were next, and Penumbra couldn’t do a damn thing about any of it.

She hadn’t noticed the baby mite’s movement until it was crouched next to her, gently nudging it’s round little body against her shoulder and making soft noises at her. Penumbra paused, removing her hand to stare at the confused baby with wet eyes, and eventually came to the conclusion that she didn’t have any further to fall, leaning against the sturdy little bug and lightly patting its carapace. The baby gurgled, a deep rumbling sensation that reminded her of the roar of the Spear’s engine, and somehow, she was sure that the little beast was trying to comfort her.

Oddly enough, it worked, at least somewhat. Her first crying fit since she was a little child had tapered off, and she wiped the corners of her eyes before looking back up at the mother mite, almost expecting a suspicious glare over her continued contact with the baby. Instead, to her surprise, her gaze met with four shining blue orbs in the darkness, the placated beast entirely at ease with the events taking place before her. She made another huffing noise, this time much more contented, before turning and scurrying down the tunnel. The baby shifted against Penny’s side, and she scrambled to stand back up as the mite darted forward a bit in its mother’s footsteps, before turning to chirp inquisitively at the surprised warrior. The message was clear. 

_ Well? Are you coming? _

Well then. Not like she had many options. 

Penumbra knelt to pick up her helmet, dusted herself off as she regained her composure, and followed the bugs into the dark. 

~*~

“...Really? I just... _ really?” _

The baby mite chittered playfully as it nudged Penumbra towards the twisted chunks of red metal, and she reached out for the nearest piece in a daze. Her palm rested against the cooled surface, and she blinked, confirming that no, she wasn’t seeing things, and the reality of the situation was just as ridiculous as it seemed. 

Lit only by some erratically flashing machinery, and a wide hole in the roof of the tunnel overhead, the remains of the Spear of Selene lay scattered around the unlikely trio. 

Penumbra rested her forehead against the hull fragment before her, sighing deeply. “Yeah. Of course.”

A loud crack of static jolted her out of her one person pity party, sending the mites backpedaling and chirping in surprise, and she whirled around as the harsh noise continued. Tucked beneath a few twisted sheets of gold plating, some form of dashboard component spat out loud bursts of garbled noise, and Penumbra felt time slow to a crawl as a frail specter of hope started to whisper in the back of her mind. 

A radio.

There was no way. Lunaris was likely still blocking signals to Earth-

_ But you have to TRY.  _

She slid across the dusty floor of the cavern on her knees, frantically attacking the unfamiliar controls in a desperate search for an open and functioning frequency. Every few twists of the knobs she could almost catch a brief hint of a word, and for half a second she let herself believe not all was lost, any second now she’d have a direct line to Della, a chance to warn her, a chance to  _ apologize- _

_ “Zzzxtztz-oon mites, sir-“ _

Penumbra froze, hands falling from the controls as the voices, metallic from the signal quality but clear enough to hear every word, continued their report. 

_ “It...dragged her under, General. Should we-“ _

_ “There’s no point.” _

God, just the sound of his voice made her blood boil, and her chest twitched at the memory of a painful and unexpected shock. 

_ “Sir?” _

_ “She was injured, unarmed, and on foot. I’ve seen what the mites are capable of, especially a mother defending its child. Lieutenant Penumbra is dead.” _

_ “It doesn’t make sense, sir, why did she-“ _

_ “She deceived us all, Zenith. Why do you think she allowed Della Duck to share her lodgings? She was plotting against her own people this whole time-“ _

The radio cut off with a horrible crunch as Penumbra’s fist shot into it, and the mites squealed in shock at her outburst. The pain in her knuckles and the tiny shards of metal caught in her gloves did nothing to defuse her anger, and as she shakily rose to her feet she continued her assault on the device, furiously slamming her boot into the crumbling metal. 

“ **THAT SON OF A-“**

The mother mite huffed loudly in protest, and Penny could not believe how easily the sound made her feel like a scolded child throwing a tantrum. With one final kick to the now destroyed radio (it was stupid to hope anyways, there was no reason for Lunaris to let any earthbound signal through, what was she thinking-), she turned on her heel and marched to a nearby rock, dropping down on it and crossing her arms against her chest. 

Stupid. The whole situation was stupid, and a mess, and god she had never wanted anything as much as she now wanted to kill Lunaris with her bare hands. First he lied to her, used her as a tool for his own personal agenda, sent her neighbors after her when she tried to right his wrongs, and now? He couldn’t even leave her memory untarnished posthumously. 

She was a fugitive. And a traitor. 

And a  _ very bad friend.  _

Her eyes started stinging again, and the thought of having yet another childish crying fit pissed her off  _ immensely, _ so she took it out on a nearby rock, winding back and kicking the offending stone. The rock shot through the air like a cannon round, striking another section of the destroyed Spear (the Spear that started this mess, that brought Della to the moon and took her home, the Spear that delivered Donald to his eventual-)

A compartment in the fragment, previously unnoticed, popped open upon impact, and a small bundle dropped into the dirt. 

Penumbra blinked, and after a few seconds spent watching the baby mite investigate, stood to retrieve the item herself. She knelt in the dust, brushing off the well wrapped and fully intact package, and carefully removed the protective layer. The dark red cover of the book in her hands had the words “OWNER’S MANUAL” stenciled across the front, and a small square of paper was stuck to the front by some form of weak adhesive. Dumbfound, Penumbra held the little note up to the light. 

_ “Hello Dumbella-WAIT DON’T TEAR THIS UP YET! I’ve packed this spare manual in the event that you pull a Della and destroy the original, either in a spectacular accident, or because you couldn’t understand the technical genius of its contents and took it out on the big mean book. No need to thank me, it’s enough just knowing I’m better prepared than you. Your lord and savior, G.” _

...Wow. Penumbra had no idea who wrote this note, but she  _ really  _ felt like he deserved to get punched in the face. Hell, he probably already had been, once Della made it home, but she’d never know for sure.

Unless…

Penumbra looked around at the fragments of the Spear, a scene of utter devastation in terms of structure, but on closer inspection, a lot of the actual mechanisms seemed intact, if spread out across the cavern. The walls and tunnel entrances at the edge of the light were faintly illuminated by uneven stacks reflecting in the dark, hidden stores of gold accumulated by her new companions over the past few months. The manual was heavy in her hands, packed with information she probably had no idea how to put to good use...yet. 

One month. One month to the invasion. All the parts and direction needed to get the Spear off the ground. And nobody out in the dunes searching for a supposed dead traitor. 

The baby mite chirped behind her, and Penumbra took a deep breath, dropping to sit in the dust as she cracked open the manual. 

For her people. For Donald. For her  _ friends.  _

“Wait for me, Della. I’m on my way.”

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
